The Renegade
by AlwaysHiking
Summary: After failing to murder Albus Dumbledore, Draco Malfoy is forced to seek protection from those he hates most. While being stranded in the middle of nowhere with the war underway, Draco Malfoy finds himself reluctantly opening up the three people he's despised since he was a child. Dramione. Takes place immediately after HBP.
1. Chapter 1

It had all happened so fast that he could hardly focus on what was going on. There were only two things that he was sure of at the moment.

One. Dumbledore was dead.

Two. He hadn't been the one to kill him. Which meant that he was likely going to die.

He had known for his entire sixth year how brutally serious his task was. He was to get the cabinet working so that his fellow death eaters could enter the castle. He was then to murder Dumbledore. By himself, with absolutely no help. The dark lord had seen it as the "ultimate test". Yes, his parents were incredibly loyal death eaters, to the point where Lucius had given up his his very own home to Voldemort. But even _that_ hadn't been enough. Draco Malfoy no longer had a bloody home, yet the dark lord needed _more_.

The dark lord had sensed Draco Malfoy's hesitance, which therefore made him hesitant towards Draco. He hadn't truly trusted "his allegiance". He had always wanted to get rid of Dumbledore, however it wasn't until he thought of the youngest Malfoy that he realized exactly how he had wanted it done.

Despite Narcissa's quiet pleads to Lucius to do something, Voldemort had planned for Draco to kill Dumbledore at the end of his sixth year. According to his father, he should have seen it as an honor.

 _It was an honor that the dark lord trusted him with such an important task!_

It hadn't felt like it. Instead, it had felt like the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

He hadn't wanted to do it. He didn't have to like Dumbledore to recognize that what he was expected to do was awful. Draco wanted no part of the task, but the dark lord wasn't exactly someone one could say no to.

Draco had wanted to find a reason, _any_ reason to not return to Hogwarts for his sixth year without being painfully transparent. He came up with none. He'd considered getting himself expelled almost immediately. Surely, if he had shown his fresh dark mark to a few freshman that would have done the job, right? That would have been fantastic to explain to the dark lord.

Draco Malfoy had found himself waking up nearly every single night of his sixth year from nightmares. Every night had been different, however they had all consisted of the murder of Albus Dumbledore in one way or another. In some of them he succeeded but in most he failed. In the ones that he failed, he was almost immediately killed by several different death eaters, or Voldemort himself. In the ones where he had succeeded, he still didn't survive. Whether it have been at the hands of Potter or several different despised classmates, Draco's fate almost always seemed to be the same.

When he couldn't take the nightmares anymore, he had decided to hurry up the inevitable and kill himself.

Despite having constantly thought about it, he had ended up planning it on a whim, in potions one morning. Students weren't allowed out after dark, but what was he to care? What would a professor that found him do? Give him _detention_? He didn't even consider prefects finding him because he couldn't possibly have cared less if they had.

He planned that as soon as everyone was asleep in his dormitory, he'd leave. None of his friends would ask where he was going. He'd grown distant from even his best of friends that year and even though they didn't know exactly what he was being asked to do by the dark lord, they knew it was taxing.

He planned on leaving the dorm that evening and making his way up to the owelry. There was no one near the west wing in the evening as far as he knew, which would make his plan less of a hassle. He didn't want to run in to anyone and delay what he was going to do. He just wanted everyone to be done with.

Snape had caught him in the owlery just in time. After a night of being scolded and told to toughen up, Snape had followed him back to the Slytherin common room and let him go back to his room to sleep. He had given him Sleeping Draught to get him through the night and even though it helped somewhat, it hadn't been nearly enough.

A month later Potter had tried to kill him in the bathroom of all places, and while he was initially furious, he found himself also somewhat glad. Realistically, he could have killed Potter right then and there, but instead he allowed him to hit him. He hadn't been expecting " _Sectumsempra"_ to be used on him, but he had almost been glad it was. He _wanted_ to die.

But alas, Snape had gotten to him just in time _then_ , too. And though it was a long, painful process, Snape had healed him. And so then he was back to square one. It was _infuriating_.

After a year of sleepless nights, several suicidal plans with only one attempt at actually following through with one, the end of the year came and his time was up. Before he knew it, it was time. He'd felt sick the entire time, but he planned to go through with it. By himself, he cornered Dumbledore upstairs in the tower in his office. Dumbledore had been obnoxiously kind and had tried to talk him out of it. Although Draco would never admit it, had he been given a few more minutes, he might have actually taken Dumbledore's offer.

But he couldn't. No one understood. They had his mother. If he was to fail not only would he be killed, which honestly, he could handle, but his mother would be too. His mother had never wanted any of this, but instead had been forced into it by his feckless father. His _father_ deserved to die; not his mother. This was all of his father's fault. If it hadn't been for Lucius Malfoy, Draco could have grown up normally. Draco could have been worrying about exams as others had been doing, rather than worrying about this bullshit task given to him by a man that had taken over his home.

Snape had shown up for the third and final time that evening to save Draco. He had known that Draco wouldn't have been able to complete his task, so he showed up to complete it for him. It could have been their little secret, too, if his Aunt Bella and the other horrendous lackeys hadn't showed up just in time to see Snape go through with it.

"Let's go," Snape hissed as he pulled Draco through the castle. He wasn't sad that Dumbledore had been killed, he realized. He was fucking terrified of what was about to happen to him because he hadn't been the one to do it. "Hurry up, boy."

Snape had dragged him down through the headmasters office, through the door and down one of the dark halls. He only stopped once he came to a closed door. In the distance behind them, Draco could faintly hear his aunt's cackles of delight. She didn't care at the moment that Draco had failed. That was for later. _Now,_ however, was time for celebration. After all, Dumbledore was finally dead. If the dark lord felt emotion, he'd have been thrilled.

Snape muttered a few quiet words at the door and it popped open almost immediately. "In here," he growled as he shoved Draco through a door.

The room was an old, clearly abandoned classroom. There had been a large desk towards the front of the room that the professor at the time must have used along with a few ancient looking desks strewn about the room. The several layers of dust that sat on each desk was enough to tell him that the room hadn't been used in years.

"I failed," whimpered Draco once he accepted that they were alone. "He's going to kill me. He's going to kill mum."

A bright flash outside the window caught Draco's attention. Despite Snape's strong grip on him, Draco struggled through the abandoned classroom to get closer to the window. He frowned once he saw where the flash had come from.

The dark, cloudless night sky was no long illuminated by stars, but by the same marking that was embedded into his left arm. He should have been thrilled. "His side" was winning now, weren't they?

As if it really mattered. He'd probably be dead before dawn.

"Your mother will be fine," Snape said sternly while jerking Draco's arm to get his attention again. "But you need to go. _Now._ I cannot protect you on my own anymore."

" _Protect me_?" Draco barked, followed by a humorless laugh. How in the world had Snape _protected_ him? All Snape had been throughout the year was a thorn in his side, constantly thwarting any plan Draco had that didn't align with what the dark lord wanted. _Protected him._ How preposterous. "How have you _protected_ me? You've made my life a living hell this past year! I didn't want this!"

"You were being a coward," Snape argued. Draco's eyes widened in surprise. He went to argue, however Snape didn't give him the time to. "You need to go. I knew you would. I've spoken to the Order. They will help you."

"The _what_? What in the bloody hell is-"

" _We do not have time for this!_ " Snape hissed. He led Draco to the front of the room where the desk sat. On the desk, was a book that he hadn't noticed before. Snape dragged Draco over to the side of it. "Do as they say, Draco."

"Get your hands off of me," Draco snarled while ripping his arm out of Snape's grasp. "How dare you—"

Snape looked as if he was ready to shove Draco out the window, however instead he grabbed Draco by his shoulders and roughly turned him to face the table. Before Draco was able to spit another word, Snape grabbed his arm and roughly threw Draco's hand towards onto book.

The floor went out from beneath Draco and the world began to spin around him. He'd used portkeys many times before so he should have been fine, but this time he was positive he was going to be sick.

In a matter of seconds it was over and he landed roughly on his ass on concrete steps. Draco sat for a moment, cursing angrily under his breath as he tried ran his hands over his legs that were now aching. Unlike the castle he had just left, Draco was now sitting on the steps of a much smaller building. It was dark around him, however several street lamps posted throughout the street in front of him provided enough light for him to see that he was nowhere near Hogwarts. Instead, he looked to be somewhere in London.

The world around him was quiet, but his ears were ringing from the commotion he had just left behind. After sitting on the landing for a few moments, a horrid wave of nausea that had been sitting in the pit of his stomach since he had been in the tower alone with Dumbledore finally hit him. Draco turned to his left end emptied the contents of his stomach on the bush next to him.

The sound of his retching caused a light to turn on inside the home he was sitting in front of. He groaned inwardly. The _last_ thing he wanted at the moment was to deal with _more_ people. Lord help him if they were muggles. He didn't have the patience for their ignorance _ever_ , but especially at the moment.

There was the sound of footsteps inside the home, voices and eventually locks on the door being turned. The door slowly opened and to his surprise and his dismay, Draco recognized the woman with the ridiculously colored hair that opened the door.

"Draco," Tonks breathed. There was sad smile on her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes. "We've been expecting you. Welcome to Grimmauld Place."

 _ **A/N:** Hi there! So this is my first Dramione fanfic I've ever written! I've wanted to write one for a while, but finally got the courage to actually do it now_ _, so please be a little easy on me_ _! I've got the entire story planned out, which I'm thrilled about! It's a bit of a slow-burn Dramione, but I think it'll be worth it. :)_

 _Also, it feels weird to say this but if you don't like Draco Malfoy/Dramione, please don't leave nasty comments on the story? I've already had one, which surprised me. Clearly this is not the story for you if you don't like Draco, so why waste your own time? Also, it costs nothing to be kind. :)_

 _Happy reading! Please don't hesitate to leave a comment :)_


	2. Chapter 2

"Is it true?" Tonks asked quietly as she brought Draco inside and closed the door behind him. Draco shrugged off her hand from his shoulder.

"What?" He spat while looking around the dimly lit home. He lifted his arm to wipe the remnants of vomit from around his mouth. Draco was surprised to find that even though the home was was dark, there were several lanterns lit along a staircase that was in the entryway. He noticed a large chandelier hanging over his head that he imagined had to have provided more lighting than the utterly useless lanterns.

What the hell had been Snape's plan and why did it involve Nymphadora Tonks? He'd never actually met his cousin before, but he had unfortunately seen her. Her ragged hair that was constantly changing from one dreadful color to another was enough for him to see to know that his family had made a good decision by cutting her out.

"Dumbledore," Tonks whispered. "Is it true?"

"Is he _dead_ , do you mean?" Draco sneered. He rolled his eyes as she winced. For people that were supposed to stop the Dark Lord, they were incredibly fragile. "Yes. He's dead."

" _Oh_ ," she gasped.

Despite the poor lighting in the entryway, Draco could see Tonks's eyes begin to water. He groaned inwardly. If she started crying right then and there, he'd impale himself on the banister of the staircase. He hadn't avoided his repugnant cousin for his entire life just to comfort her over the death of Dumbledore during their first confrontation.

Although she had already been whispering, Tonks managed to drop her voice even lower. "But you didn't do it, did you?"

Draco frowned. He considered answering, but then decided not to. No, he didn't fucking do it. Did she really need to rub it in anymore? As if he didn't loathe himself enough already.

Tonks, having seen the look of anguish that Draco was unable to hide upon her question, decided to continue speaking. "That's a _good_ thing, Draco," she said while reaching out to touch his arm. He shook her off as if her touch burned him. "It's why you're here."

Draco's frown managed to go even deeper. As if failing to complete the task he had been assigned wasn't bad enough, now he had to deal with _this_?

"So, what?" Draco asked slowly. "Is this my punishment? He's decided not to kill me, but to torture me by making me stay with _you_?" Draco sighed. "I'd rather he just kill me."

Tonks rolled her eyes. "Severus sent you here for us to protect you, Draco. You know as well as I do that you'd be dead before morning—"

"And I deserve to be," Draco interjected angrily. For Merlin's sake, he had _failed._ He had known and accepted that death would be his fate if he had, so why hadn't everyone else?

"Well your mother doesn't think so," Tonks whispered just as angrily. Draco felt his stomach drop at the mention of his poor mother. Ultimately, he couldn't have cared less about failing _Voldemort_. He cared about failing his mother. "Her and Severus set this up with us. Should you have decided to not go through with killing Dumbledore, you were to come to us. _He_ ," Tonks said, referring to Voldemort, "won't be able to get you here."

"As if this is much better," Draco sniffed while turning away from his cousin. Fantastic. He was forced to live— _again_. This time, however, he was forced to live amongst someone that he found completely insufferable. How was this an improvement to death?

Draco frowned as he recalled her words. "Us?" He questioned. "Don't tell me there's _more_ of you."

"Many," Tonks responded. Draco groaned. "You'll meet them in due time. Not everyone knows you're here yet."

"I'd like to keep it that way," Draco snapped. "I won't be here for long."

"You don't have to be here at all," Tonks said harshly. "We're doing this as a favor to Severus, not _you._ We've done our part now. But I think you'll find it in your best interest to stay. Whether or not you like it, _He_ has got a number on your head now. You step foot out that door and we won't be able to help you anymore. You can't possibly think he'll simply kill you for failing his most important task yet? You'll be tortured, Draco. Don't be a fool."

Draco didn't say anything. He didn't want to admit it, but the crazy witch may have been on to something. It wasn't Voldemort's style to simply kill. Realistically, he knew he'd be tortured. It wouldn't be unlike Voldemort to make Draco watch his mother die.

"I'll show you to your room. Whether or not you decide to stay is up to you. It doesn't make a difference to us."

Draco didn't respond. Tonks led Draco up the dark staircase and down a hallway that was somehow even darker and drearier than the rest of the house. The upstairs smelled musty and it didn't look much better. Draco had a feeling that the last time any sort of decoration for the home has been bought in the 50s. He couldn't even imagine the last time the place had been dusted.

Tonks stopped at a door all the way at the end of the long hallway. Draco frowned while looking at the door that desperately needed a coat of paint. Did " _The Order_ " or whatever their ridiculous name was believe that they were too good for house elves? Because if so someone needed to speak to them.

"Get some rest," Tonks murmured while leaning on the wall across from his door. "We can talk more in the morning."

Draco waved his hand carelessly at her as he opened the door to his room. "I'd rather not," he sneered as he stepped inside the room. Before Tonks was able to respond, he closed the door behind him.

Draco had thought that he found the house depressing, yet his room managed to make it look cheerful in comparison. Draco's new room was small, probably the size of his closet back at home, and painted a dark blue. The four poster bed took up early all of the entire back wall, yet crammed in next to it was a small wooden dilapidated night stand. At the foot of the bed sat another, much larger dresser with a mirror on it that was so dirty it was almost completely useless. At the far end of the bedroom was a fireplace, which was already lit for him.

"Charming," Draco muttered dryly while looking around the poor excuse of a bedroom.

Draco moved slowly around the bedroom, watching every step he took to make sure that he wasn't going to trip on the uneven floorboards that were underneath the old, green rug that had clearly been on the floor since the house was first moved into. He paused at the window that was on the other side of the dresser to look out down onto the quiet street below. How could the world outside be so quiet when Hogwarts was probably in such chaos? It almost made him angry.

When he had had enough of watching muggles walk down the dimly lit street, Draco finally made his way over to his bed. He sat down on it and even though he'd never admit it to anyone, he relished how surprisingly comfortable it was.

He sat on the bed for a few minutes, staring into the fireplace while allowing the fire to warm him. For the first time since he had entered the Astronomy Tower that evening, he was alone. For the first time in as long as he could remember, in the comfort of isolation, he allowed himself to cry.

He hadn't slept that night. He had attempted to sleep for the first hour or so that he had been there, but once he got tired of tossing and turning, he decided to give up.

He'd thought about leaving several times that night. He'd considered slipping out through a window and then fading away into the night. Perhaps if he could get far away enough without using magic, Voldemort wouldn't find him immediately and would eventually forget about him.

One could hope.

Knowing that that was far too good to be true and not like the dark lord at all, Draco continued to lie in his warm bed that he didn't deserve for the rest of the night, well into the morning. He only got up to make sure his door was locked once he began to hear people stir throughout the home. The last thing he needed was for even more people to find out what a failure he was and tell him how it was _good_.

How did Snape know these people? _Why_ did Snape know these people? Draco was related to Tonks and he didn't _want_ to even know of her, so why had Snape sent him to stay where she was? Snape was more of a death eater than _he_ was, so why in the world had he had any contact with this 'Order'? Draco may not have known his cousin Tonks well, but he did know she wasn't anything like them, therefore The Order wasn't either.

It infuriated him that Tonks had been expecting him. They had set up a portkey. Snape and the others had _expected_ him to fail and it made his blood boil. How _dare_ they think he was weak. He wished he had known beforehand that this many people had expected his failure because he would have made sure to have proved them wrong.

But he didn't. Because he was a failure.

Draco stayed in his room the next morning. He hadn't removed himself from his bed until the early afternoon, and that was only so that he could stretch before he went back to sulking. Tonks had knocked at his door in the early afternoon, but had given up when he refused to acknowledge her. She came back an hour later, knocked softly at his door, and left shortly after. He opened the door to peak his head out to find a tray of food had been set on the floor in front of the door. At first he slammed the door closed as loud as he could so that he could wordlessly reject her peace offering, however after fifteen or so minutes of sulking, he realized that he was indeed hungry. Once making sure no one was around, he pulled open the door, grabbed the tray and slammed it shut again.

It stayed that way for four days. Tonks would come by every morning to see if he was alright. He would ignore her, and then she would come back a few hours later with food for him. On the fourth day, Draco had had enough of his room and had decided to go downstairs to see if he could find a book or really _anything_ to read. At that point he had become so bored and so miserable, he would have actually considered reading _'Hogwarts: A History'_.

Draco stayed in his room until midnight that night. He hadn't heard voices in a few hours now, but had wanted to wait to make sure that he wouldn't run into anyone once he had left his room. He wasn't positive who he had heard, but he _was_ positive that he had no interest in meeting them.

What Snape had neglected to tell him before shoving him into the portkey, was that The Order was made up of misfits from Dumbledore's side. Draco had been hoping that The Order had been made up of several other death eaters who hadn't been able to complete the dark lord's tasks, but instead he had gotten the club of goody two-shoes rejects. He hadn't been able to hear much, but he had heard the name "Weasley" used several times, which was all he needed to hear in order to know that he wanted nothing to do with the people on the other side of the door.

At half past midnight, Draco slowly opened the door to his room. He took step outside and then just as slowly pulled the door closed behind him. After pausing a few moments to make sure that he didn't hear anyone from the club of misfits stirring below, he crept over to the stairs and descended them.

He crept through the hallway of the home and into the kitchen, where he was thrilled to find plenty of food. After grabbing a loaf of bread and some roast beef from the ice box, he continued on through the house to where he noticed a large bookcase. While taking a large bite of his sandwich, Draco began to look through the shelves to find something that would hopefully keep him entertained until he could figure out what he was going to do next.

Potter, Weaselbee, and Granger showed up at Grimmauld place 9 days later.

The three of them had stayed at Hogwarts until the end of the year. They had attended Dumbledore's funeral and then after getting back to London via the Hogwarts Express, they were all to meet up at Grimmauld Place. Apparently, Draco had come to find out, Grimmauld Place was actually Potter's. As if he didn't hate being in the Weasley-infested home enough, _Potter_ of all people had to own it.

To say that Potter and his insufferable crew were unhappy to see him was an understatement.

Draco had been sitting in the kitchen of the dreary home, nose stuck in a book while lazily sipping a bowl of soup when the three of them arrived. He groaned inwardly, knowing that his time of peace was about to abruptly end. Tonks had told him the day before that their arrival was to be expected, but Draco had pretended that he hadn't heard her.

Draco knew of their arrival by Potter's name being excitedly called throughout the house in greeting.

 _How obnoxious_ , he thought to himself. _Is there anywhere that git goes where he isn't treated like the bloody king? What an insufferable prat. No wonder his head is the size of Neptune._

Why couldn't the dark lord have just asked him to kill Potter instead? He was sure he would have been able to have pulled that off without any issue.

As if the arrival of Harry Potter and his obnoxious friends wasn't bad enough, his arrival had caused other members of " _The Order_ " to also return back to Grimmauld Place. Over the past week, Draco had been relieved to find that the home was actually relatively empty during the week, with the members of " _The Order"_ returning back to their own frumpy homes so they could attend their equally frumpy jobs throughout the week. The only person to stay in the home with him, which Draco could handle even if he wasn't thrilled about, was Tonks.

Having the home full again irritated Draco greatly. Where as he had spent the last week moving freely throughout it without running into anyone, the morning of Potter's arrival he had gone into the kitchen and had found himself in the unwanted presence of a short plump woman who, due to the color of her hair, was undoubtedly a Weasley. Feeling out of his element had caused him to be polite to the frumpy redhead, but he had spent most of the rest of the day holed up back in his room to avoid another encounter.

When his stomach had started to rumble and there was still no sign of Potter or his friends, Draco decided he'd slink down to the kitchen so that he could eat and enjoy the peace and quiet for however much time he had left.

The blonde had considered leaving the kitchen and retreating back to his room as soon as he had heard Potter's obnoxious voice waft through the house, but ultimately decided against it. As much as he didn't want to, he knew that running into Potter was inevitable, and he was only postponing their first meeting by avoiding him. After all, he, Draco Malfoy, was not about to go into hiding from _Harry Potter._ He'd sooner turn himself in to the Dark Lord.

Rather than quietly escaping back up his room once he heard Potter, Draco continued to sit at the dining room table with his wand in one hand being used to turn the pages of the book he had been occupied with all morning, and a spoon in the other. He hadn't had enough time to concern himself with thinking about how his first interaction would Potter would go when he heard footsteps lead to the kitchen and stop at the doorway. He didn't have to look up to know who the pair of dreadful black shoes that were now in his line of vision belonged to.

"So it's true then," he heard. Draco groaned inwardly. He'd unfortunately heard Potter's voice many times throughout his life, yet he never dreaded hearing it any less.

Draco looked up from his book. Before him, in the doorway of the kitchen, stood Harry Potter, flanked by his two devoted groupies. Rather than his school attire that Draco was used to seeing him in, he stood before him wearing a dreadful looking stiff pair of blue pants and a plain white shirt. Muggle clothing. As if Draco needed another reason to feel superior to muggles, their clothing was dreadful.

"Careful, Potter," Draco warned as he closed his book, "you might catch some flies if you keep your mouth open long enough. Merlin knows this place has enough of them."

"I didn't know they let Death Eaters in here," Weasley spat as he stepped into the kitchen behind Potter.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Wah-ho-ho, good one, Weasley!" He exclaimed sarcastically. "How long did that one take you to come up with? A few weeks at least, I suspect."

"It's true then?" Harry asked, ignoring Ron's and his exchange. "You've really defected?"

" _Defected_?" Draco sneered. He wasn't sure if he wanted to laugh or kill Potter on the spot. How _dare_ he try to insult Draco like that. _Defected._

Just because he was no longer a part of Voldemort's army didn't mean he had _defected_. Draco would have rathered bury himself alive than consider himself part of "The Order". The thought alone wanted to make him throw up. Leave it to Potter to be so painfully stupid that he assumed that just because he was at Grimmauld Place, Draco had defected.

Draco slowly stood up from his seat at the table. "You think I've become one of _you_ , do you?" Draco spat while gripping his wand so tightly his knuckles managed to turn even paler than his skin already was. Granger, having picked up on his tone and his stance pulled her wand out and pointed it back at Draco. He almost laughed. She may have been insufferably intelligent, but there wasn't an ounce of him that was afraid of her trying to duel him. "I would rather _die_ than help the _**Famous**_ _Harry Potter._ I haven't _defected_ , Potter," he snarled while making sure to look Harry in the eyes. "I couldn't care _less_ if any of you died."

Deciding that he had already had enough of the three despite it only being a matter of minutes, Draco grabbed his book, and with a wave of his wand, slammed his chair back into the table. He turned away from the group and went to exit through the back of the kitchen. "I was there that night," Potter called out.

Draco stopped dead in his tracks. He turned back on his heel so that he was again facing the unbearable trio. "Excuse me?"

"In the Astronomy Tower," Potter clarified hesitantly. "I was there. Under the stairs. I saw you up there. I saw you lower your wand. You weren't going to kill him."

He wanted to call him a liar. The night may have been a blur in his mind now, but he knew for certain that he had not seen Harry Potter in the tower. "So because I didn't kill him you think that makes me one of you, do you?" None of the three uttered a word and it made Draco want to scream. "I wish I could go back," Draco spat after a moment of silence. "I wish I could go back to that night because if I had a second chance, I'd make sure not to fuck it up again."

"So, what?" Harry snapped back at Draco, seemingly giving up on attempting to be cordial. "Just because you're a failure of a Death Eater, we have to put up with you now?"

"Oi, _fuck you_ , Potter," Draco snarled at Harry as he lifted his wand. "Just because I messed up once doesn't mean I'd do it again. Dumbledore was the headmaster, but you're just a gnat that won't _piss off_. I reckon I'd do the world a favor getting rid of you."

"As if you could," Weasley interrupted while stepping in front of Potter, as if to protect him.

Draco barked out a genuine laugh. For the first time since he had arrived at Grimmauld Place, he found himself genuinely amused. "Am I supposed to be afraid of _you_?" He asked incredulously. He held up his hands to pretend to defend himself. "Oh no, anyone but _Weasley!_ Can't transfigure his rat into a bloody _goblet_ , but is going to protect Potter!" Draco lifted his eyes from the redhead to the scarhead. "You'd do yourself some good to get some actual security, Potter. With Weasley on your side, I reckon you'll need security from your own security."

"That is _enough!"_ Came a cry from behind the three misfits. Draco groaned and rolled his eyes at the sound of his cousins voice. Within only a few seconds, Tonks joined the four teenagers in the kitchen. "No," she hissed at all four of them once seeing that all of their wands were out. "Absolutely not. You four are _not_ going to fight like this. Not here, not now. _Honestly,_ boys, grow up!"

Draco glowered at his cousin as he tucked his wand into the pocket of his pants. Without bothering to hear anything else that any of them had to say, he turned on his heel and stormed up to his bedroom.


End file.
